


The Charm

by Edwardina



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Community: blindfold_spn, Dom/sub, Fucking Machines, M/M, Multi, Multiple Orgasms, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Paddling, Sex Toys, Threesome - M/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-01-25
Updated: 2011-01-25
Packaged: 2018-02-18 22:05:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,408
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2363750
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Edwardina/pseuds/Edwardina
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>prompt: Jensen's tied to a fucking machine and has a giant vibrator in his ass. He has to watch Misha spank Jared and isn't allowed to come unless Jared's come three times.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Charm

**Author's Note:**

> Written for blindfold_spn and originally posted [here](http://community.livejournal.com/blindfold_spn/3417.html?thread=3691097#t3691097).
> 
> I've never really written Jared being submissive so I was delighted to try and had too much fun. Sorry I took it from spanking to paddling... that wasn't part of the prompt, and I didn't think about it until I'd already posted, but I apologize if it wasn't what the OP wanted.

"Fuck, oh, fuck, Misha -- Misha, please --"

He's close, so close -- no -- oh _God_ , no, _stop_ , stop --

Jensen bites down on his lip so he won't babble himself into orgasm and just cream everything he's got all over the bare mattress where Misha left him over an hour ago. It's hard not to be right up on that hard, terrifying edge. The dong up Jensen's ass is vibrating so hard that the outline of Misha is vibrating, too, shaking so hard he seems to glow or cast some kind of aura, and Jensen's vision is graying out, blurring as he tries to hang on. It's all mental -- there's nothing he can grip at, not even his own hands because fisting them helplessly does nothing and he's already numbed the meat of the heels of his hands and tender palms trying to dig his fingernails through the skin of them. He's given up trying to bite the mattress. All Jensen can do is hang the fuck on, hang on for dear life, 'cause he can't come. He can't, he won't. He's not allowed to. That's all that's important in the whole fucking world to him right then.

But it's so hard not to feel his balls clench in maniacal sympathy every time he hears Misha's paddle crack down hard on Jared's ass. It was difficult enough an hour ago, when Misha was taking it easy, just playing with Jared for fun, practically tickling him. Jared's so malleable, so easy to excite, but so hard to break, and here's Jensen, paying the price. What's a little paddling? He's the one sweating and grunting and whimpering and overflowing with _no, no, no, Misha, Misha, please, no no no_ while this machine drills him slow and hard. He's leaked all over the mattress already, the vibrator sliding over his prostate on its way to mixing up his insides. He doesn't think it's that he came. It's just that this thing is practically milking him, and it's probably just what Misha intended.

Jensen squeezes his eyes shut, having to shove that full, brutally overwhelmed feeling down every single time the paddle reds Jared's ass, but even with his eyes closed, he can still see the shape of it in Misha's hand and the pale slim curve of his arm. He can still hear Misha's voice over the rhythmic din of the machine.

"How d'you like that, Jared? Taking your punishment? Hm?" 

Misha's so fucking involved over there on Jared that Jensen's dying of jealousy on top of the vibe pushing at his stomach and making his limbs all quake uncontrollably from the core. Jared's already gotten to come twice. When his vision was less blurry, Jensen could see the cloudy puddles of come Jared had shot off streaking over the arm of the chair and sitting wet and heavy in the seat of it. Jared's loads are so huge (just like he's so oversized and sweats so much, he just produces a freakish amount of body fluids) it's no wonder Misha wants to see them again and again.

"Fuck, yeah," Jared moans back. His voice has dropped low, so down deep his baritone seems to go through the floor and right up into the machine that's working Jensen ragged. "Not gonna be able to sit."

"No, you're not. What do you think? Should I be nicer?" It's so like Misha to pause thoughtfully then just whack Jared's ass regardless. But then, Jared deserves it. "I don't think so. Look at that cock, Jared. So red. I'm trying to get your back to match your front, see."

"Please," groans Jared, unknowingly sending Jensen into a desperate fight for control. Just hearing the word being voiced by someone else is shoving Jensen ever-closer.

"Don't move your hands, Jared."

"Dammit," Jensen grits out, frustration tied too closely with how desperately he's trying to behave.

"Yes," says Misha, backing him up, which is just about the only thing he's really said to Jensen since giving him his instructions: _You don't come till Jared does. I'm aiming for three._ "You want to be tied to the machine? Do you?"

"No. I want to come again while you're doin' this to me," Jared groans brazenly. The sheer audacity. Jensen gapes and jerks, the heat in him spiking rapidly before he can get a rein on it and pull it back down, try to keep it all inside. He goes tense for a serious second then forces himself to relax, forces himself just to take it and forget he's taking it, that vibe buzzing as it casually fucks his hole.

"Say it," encourages Misha, punctuating it with a round, delicious-sounding smack that makes Jared hiss wildly and Jensen flinch weakly in sympathy. "Say what I'm doing."

"Spankin' me, gawd," Jared responds, in that full on drawl that comes out when he's tired or in the middle of getting laid into.

"Like this?" Thwack.

" _Yeah_."

"Spanking your annoying little ass?" Misha presses, and Jensen has to open his eyes for this: Misha owning Jared like this. Misha's about half his size, shorter and slimmer, but he takes Jared down so easily. For a second, Jensen's eyes manage to focus on Misha's intent face, alert posture, ready hand with its whipcord muscled forearm and that wooden panel looming for an intense moment before Misha decides to spank Jared's ass with it. Jensen doesn't have to see it to know it's sunburn-red all over. He listened to Misha use his hand for half an hour, stripe Jared a few teasing times with his belt (that got him to come once), then break out the paddle for maximum effect (which made him come again). Misha's thorough and Jared's ass is a fucking perfect target, if a little small -- that just makes the backs of his thighs open game too though.

Jared squirms, sweats; Jensen can see how bad he wants to bow up and come, all his muscles cut as hell, all his veins rigid under his flushed skin. He'd rather take it, would rather try than punk out. His screwed-up forehead is all Jensen manages to take in before his eyes unfocus and he has to blink rapidly and just give up, just close them again. The frustration Jensen's been swallowing seems to melt away, though. Jared's in this with him, not against him.

"Yeah. Ownin' it. Please --"

"Yeah? Like me owning your ass? What if I fucked you with this paddle?"

Smack. _Crack_.

Jensen freezes, because there's an intense silence before Misha says darkly, "Yeah, like that. Cream the chair," and he can hear Jared desperately trying to obey, huffing and cussing. His body lifts to where he knows Jared's is, beyond the limit, a hair away from it, and no amount of mental scrabbling can seem to get him back down.

"Please, Jared!" tears out of Jensen, just a pained raggy gasp.

A guttural noise is all he gets for a moment, and then there's a splitting pain on his ass, in it, through it. It's sharp and stinging and he only realizes Misha's smacked him after a second where he's half afraid he's coming and half afraid the machine's breaking, tearing him in two, wearing his ass out completely.

"You can come, Jensen," Misha says.

All of Jensen's atoms split, explode, tremble without control, everything vibrating in him. He doesn't know what kind of noises he makes or if anything's even getting pumped out of his wildly tensing balls and jerking cock, because the mattress is hot and sticky-wet with come beneath him already, but he knows he's coming and all that's really pinning him to earth is the paddle Misha's resting encouragingly against the meat of his ass. The machine fucks him through it without pity, making him feel more than he has the capacity to even feel, making it endless.

Finally Misha slows it and turns it off, the dong deep in Jensen's ass. He shakes around it, hurting and aching and so blissed out he forgets about the restraints and Jared until he feels hands on his hips.

"Dude, are you sure he didn't come three times?" he hears Jared ask, sounding amused, and is vaguely aware of Jared checking him over with huge, tired, sweaty hands.

"I'm sure. I watched him," says Misha, and though he shrugs, Jensen knows it's true -- Misha kept an eye on him the whole time. After all, he wasn't allowed to come.


End file.
